


Adrenaline

by Merixcil



Series: Whumptober 2019 [13]
Category: BoJack Horseman
Genre: Drug Abuse, Gen, Medical Trauma, Self-Destruction, drug overdose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:53:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25591600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merixcil/pseuds/Merixcil
Summary: Rehab wasn't going so great anyway
Series: Whumptober 2019 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1838356
Kudos: 5





	Adrenaline

Oh no. Bad, very bad. Note to self: pushing past the dealer prescribed quantity of cocaine was an ungood idea. An awesome idea, but very, very bad. Classic Bojack. 

Wait, classic Bojack good or classic Bojack bad? Details unclear. everything is moving too fast. Find phone. Have a drink. Coffee slows everything down, right? 

Someone is calling his name, someone else is angry, someone is pushing him and God, would people cut that shit out? There’s space for everyone, keep it moving. Get out of the way. Oh God he’s gonna crash. Crashing already, crashing hard, seems very little chance of him getting out the other side without remembering any of this. Thanks for that, stupid functional brain cells. The last thing he needs is more trauma. 

Horrible wailing, chest trying to press closed. He can maybe hear his friends calling out to him except…

Except fucking nothing. Everything is fast, getting faster, heart trying to bust up his ribcage. This could be it, Bojack Horseman, this could be how you die. 

And it would be, or it wouldn’t, but soon he’ll be unconscious and he won’t have to worry about it any more. 

Three…two…one…and…blackout. 

OnetwothreefourfivesixseveneightninetenwhatheFUCK

Eyes wide, ambulance way too bright, Diane is here for some reason, everything is still too fucking fast. 

The restraints burst just as soon as he can break through them. Everyone always assumes that they can hold down a horse with the same shit you use to keep a pug in check. 

And now he’s thinking about Mr Peanutbutter’s inappropriately young girlfriend. Great. 

“Where the fuck am I?” 

The paramedics push him back down on the gurney and start talking over each other about heart attacks and drugs and oh shit he’s never gonna hear the end of this. 

Diane isn’t even looking at him. She’s here, which is nice. But he probably fucked up bad. He’s gotta stop doing that. That’s what rehab is for, right? So why didn’t they stop him doing all that bad shit? 

Heart too fast. All too fast, words don’t sound right. Is it getting sleepy in here or is it just him? 

“Adrenaline.” An owl says in the voice of a whale, in answer to a question he had asked, about why he still feels like he’s dying. 

He’s been dying for years, nothing new there. (Snare drum kick, thank you very much. He’ll be here all week).

Does he have insurance? Does he have any money left to pay for this? 

This is all probably very bad. 

“Diane?” Bojack asks. 

She doesn’t reply. Very, very bad. Which is good, he knows how to do bad. Better than that shit they had him on in rehab. 

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally posted as part of a multi chaptered 'whumptober' fic that I'm trying to split up. If you think you've read it before, you probably have


End file.
